Title: Betrayed
Author/pseudonym: NemKess
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/ Harry Potter, Ron/ Hermione
Rating: R
Status: WIP
E-mail address for feedback:: [email protected]

Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Notes: this is a pre-OotP fic (as I haven't read it and don't intend to until I've finished all my current fics.) Also, I am still working on the last fic in my Holiday Trilogy, but this wouldn't leave me alone and it kept getting in the way. Figured I ought to get it out of my system. ^_^

Summary: For ten years, they've hated him for what he's become. Now, they find out just how very wrong they've been. Who betrayed who?

Warnings: This is a pretty dark story. There will be non-graphic abuse, rape, violence and a bit of swearing. It's also a slash story. Please don't read if any of that will offend you or turn your stomach.

The two prisoners tried to hide their fear as they were pushed roughly into a cell by their burly captor. Thoughts of escape had long since fled their minds. They were wandless and deep in the enemies stronghold.

"Sit down and stay quiet."

The cell door was closed and bound with magic.

"More rebels, Greg?"

"Worse."

The newcomer slid around his bigger friend to peer into the cell. His gasp resounded through the small space.

"Bloody Hell." The other man nodded his agreement at the explicative. "Do the bosses know?"

"No."

"You want me to play the messenger?"

Gregory Goyle nodded gratefully. "Thanks Blaise. I wasn't looking forward to telling them."

The dark haired ex-Slytherin shrugged. "My shields are stronger than yours, if they lose it."

"If you're talking about that bloody traitor-"

"Ron!"

Faster than they could blink, the door was thrown open and they had two angry wizards in their faces. Goyle had hauled Ronald Weasely up and was holding him by the throat, dangling several inches of the ground. Blaise Zambini had his wand pressed hard against Hermione Granger's temple.

"Don't you ever speak about him like that again, or I will personally-"

"That's enough Blaise, Greg."

Though the command was softly spoken, it's effect was immediate.

The former Gryffindors were dropped back to the floor quite unceremoniously. They turned to see who had come to their rescue.

Their expressions were a mixture of shock and fury as they were met with the cool emerald gaze they hadn't seen in person in ten years.

"You bloody traitor! After everything Dumbledore did for you! How could you?! I always knew you were a power hungry arse, but even I never imagined you'd go so far! I hate you!"

Draco glared at the redheaded idiot who was yelling at Harry Potter. Granger, he noted, was scowling back with tear-filled eyes. Probably didn't want to believe it, he thought taking savage satisfaction in their pain.

"Are you done?" Harry's calm baritone cut thorough the momentary silence that had fallen as Weasely paused in his tirade to gasp for air.

When it looked as though the moron was going to say more, Granger, displaying far more common sense than her friend, elbowed him back into silence. She, at least, seemed to understand that provoking the man who held their fates in his hands was a singularly stupid thing to do. Then again, Draco thought, Granger had always been the brains of the Gryffindor Trio. Harry had been the power and the Weasel, he grimaced, was nothing more than dead weight.

"I was just on my way to let you know they were here, Harry."

The raven haired wizard shifted his gaze to Blaise and though his expression stayed blank, Draco could see the tell-tale quirk at the corner of his lips that meant he was amused.

"Really, Blaise? It looked to me like you were about to hex them to oblivion."

"I wouldn't do that Harry!" Blaise's feigned air of innocence and indignation made the blonde snort and roll his eyes. The noise brought Weasley's focus to him. Even now, a decade after Hogwart's and their last face to face confrontation, the antagonism between the pair of pureblood's hadn't dimmed. If anything, it had grown.

"You bloody Wanker! It's your fault! If it weren't for you, Harry wouldn't have learnt dark spells and turned into a Dark Wizard! Dumbledore would still be alive!"

Only Harry's hand on his elbow prevented Draco from silencing the Weasel's blithering- permanently.

"There are no dark spells, Ron. Only dark intentions."

"And Dumbledore deserved a far worse fate than he received," Draco ground out through clenched teeth.

Unfortunately, the snide remark pushed the short tempered prisoner over the edge.

"You aren't fit to speak his name!" Ron launched himself at the elegant blonde, bloodlust in his eyes. Before he was halfway to his target, an invisible force slammed him into the back wall of the cell. He and Granger both looked stunned, eyes darting around for the unseen danger.

Draco, well aware of what had occurred, moved quickly to wrap his arms around the enraged wizard standing over Weasely.

"Harry, calm down." He pressed himself against Harry's side, hands running over the tensed back, trying desperately to break through the rage. "Calm down!" He personally would have loved to see the Weasel's entrails spilled out over the cement, but he knew Potter didn't need any more ghosts haunting his sleep. "Please."

The oppressive force of Harry's magical aura dissipated as quickly as it had flared to life. Fists clinching, he drew in a few deep breathes as he calmed. His eyes flashed. "If you ever attack Draco again, no force in the universe will save you from my wrath."

He turned and with a swirl of cloak reminiscent of Severus Snape, slammed out of the cell.

Draco smirked at the dramatic exit, then quickly schooled his expression as he turned back to the others.

Blaise and Greg were picking themselves up off the floor.

"You two all right?"

The pair nodded and the smaller grinned. "I threw up a shield as soon as I realized what the fool was doing."

Rolling his eyes again, Draco turned his attention towards the Gryffindors. Granger had only caught the fringes of Harry's defensive wave. The Weasel on the other hand, had borne the brunt of it. He'd been thrown back into the wall and now that the threat was gone, lay crumbled unconscious on the floor.

As he watched, the woman quickly moved to her companion's side. She cradled his head on her lap and Draco could tell she was searching for injuries.

"He'll be fine, Granger. Blaise?"

"Yes, master?"

He grimaced at his long time friend's droll tone. There were days when he just wasn't sure why he put up with them all. "Fix them up and put them in the guest quarters- post several guards, of course."

"Sir?"

Granger was glaring at him in suspicion and his comrades were looking at him as if sure he'd finally lost his mind.

"I didn't stutter. I haven't decided what to do with you yet, Miss Granger-"

"Weasely"

"Ms. Weasely," he continued smoothly not breaking stride as he acknowledged her growled interruption. "But until I do, you will be treated appropriately. As respected rebel prisoners." Looking up at Blaise, he added," Be careful with the guards. We don't want anyone posted who will try to help them escape, but we don't want anyone who'll kill them either. Not yet anyways."

Then, trusting the pair to carry out his orders, Draco left to deal with someone far more important to him than a pair of rebel leaders.

His lifemate, Harry Potter.

Stalking down the dark hallways of the castle that now housed the new Wizarding Government for all of the British Isles, Draco rubbed his temple with a groan. He could already feel a vicious headache coming on, the likes of which he hadn't dealt with since Harry had confronted Dumbledore.

Dealing with any of his mate's former friends and allies did that to him because he always felt torn in two.

On the one hand, he wanted to rip them all apart with his bare hands because of how they'd treated Harry. Weasley's complete lack of care had hurt the former Gryffindor Seeker as much if not more than anything else that had happened. Draco knew this because he'd been the one who'd held the small broken body on the nights when the nightmares and the pain had been too much. And that had been long before the pair had become intimate. Weasely could blame him all he wanted, but the truth was that it had been they who'd pushed Harry to him. And Dumbledore's crimes had been far worse. Draco took a few deep breathes to compose himself. Now was not the time to get angry about that old manipulator's transgressions.

No matter how he hated them all, he couldn't do a damn thing about them because deep in his heart, Harry still loved them. The rift between the old friends still hurt the wizard even after all these years.

And as Harry had once offered him the world, Draco figured the least he could do was try to fix a friendship or two.

When he pushed into their suite, he was greeted by the sight of a strong yet still painfully slender back as Harry stared out a darkened window. Twelve years away from his Muggle relatives and his body still couldn't overcome the malnourishment of his childhood. Devoid of robes and shirt, every rib and scar was exposed to Draco's gaze.

"Are they dead yet?"

Only someone who knew Harry well could hear the anxiety under the monotone.

"No. We'll decide their fates later. Right now I'm more concerned with you."

"I'm fine," came the automatic response.

Draco snorted and moved to wrap Harry up in his arms. "And I really believe that. Think about who you're talking to here, love. I know you better than that."

He could feel Harry lean back into him and saw a faint smile settle onto the dark haired reflection. It only lasted a minute though before Harry's expression crumbled. "It hurts, Draco. I didn't think it would be so hard." The smaller wizard twisted around to sob against Draco's shoulder. "Why does it still hurt?"

Draco had no answer. So he didn't even try to say anything. Instead, he just pulled Harry as close as he could and rocked him gently.

Sometimes it was so easy to forget just how fragile Harry was.

As a teen, he'd become one of the most powerful wizards ever born. Draco and Snape might have taught him the spells, but it had been Harry's power alone that had defeated both Voldemorte and Dumbledore.

Time and the real life battles they'd fought against both the Deatheaters and the Order had honed his skills.

Now, at twenty-seven, Harry Potter was definitely not a wizard to mess with.

And yet, something as simple as scorn from someone who was once a friend could shatter him completely.

He didn't speak until Harry had cried himself out. Then he broached the one subject they never talked about. "I think we should tell them the truth, Harry."

Hair dark as a raven's wing tickled his nose as Harry shook his head and ground out, "No. They didn't want to know then, they don't deserve to know now."

"Harry-"

"No, Draco." The tone was vehement and that wasn't something that was usually directed at him.

Once upon a time, he'd have responded with sarcasm and insults- or the ever popular 'Wait til my Father hears about this!'. In this time and place, with this man, he used none of those.

"Harry," he kept his voice low and comforting. "You know I'd take a great deal of pleasure in turning Weasely inside out with the worst of spells," the man in his arms snorted and Draco was pleased with the amusement in the noise. It was progress, of a sort. "but it hurts me to see you tear yourself apart over this. I say, we tell them the truth. Then, we'll know once and for all if they're worth the mess you make of yourself whenever you think about them."

The body held so close to his shuddered. "I don't think I can, Draco. I lived it once, I don't want to talk about it now."

"Would you rather I told them?"

Green eyes came up to meet his own. Harry hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "Do as you wish. Just don't ask me to be there."

"Understood." He forced away all the negative thoughts and leered. "Now that that's out of the way, I can think of much more pleasant things to do besides sit here and freeze our arses off next to the window."

As he'd hoped, Harry grinned and shook his head. "I swear that you're the most sex-crazed person I've ever known."

"That's why you love me."

The tease fell flat as the shorter wizard stopped suddenly. "No it's not."

There was a wealth of things unsaid, but still communicated as they gazed at one another. When Draco responded, he was as serious as Harry. "I know."

"Good."

Soft lips pressed against his in a chaste kiss.

Then he grinned and the moment was gone. "But it's a definite bonus, don't you think?"

Harry just laughed.

~*~*~

Though the subject of Granger and Weasely was often batted around among the guards and other residents of the castle, no one broached it with either Harry or Draco. The tension level in the building had risen to a near unbearable level and most people knew how dangerous it was to be near the powerful pair when either of them was upset.

Only one person felt comfortable enough around them to bring it up over a chess game in the Malfoy-Potter private suite.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Draco? That you won't just be making things worse?"

The blonde looked up at his long time mentor, Severus Snape, and shrugged before taking one of his opponents pieces. He'd waited a few days, letting the prisoners stew over things. Just because he was giving them a last chance to prove they deserved the regard that Harry still had for them, didn't mean he had to like it. Or that he couldn't use a little psychological torture against them. "No, Sev. I just know that I have to try, for Harry's sake."

The Potion's master nodded gravely. "And you want me to watch him until it's over, one way or the other." It wasn't a question.

There were only three people that Harry trusted enough to accept their touch if something happened. Draco himself, Remus Lupin, and Sev. The werewolf was off on diplomatic business.

Which left Sev.

"He's going to be more tense than ever. I'd hate to see what he'd do to some poor twit who comes up behind him just trying to ask a question."

With a snort of laughter, the older man took Draco's knight with his bishop and leaned back in his chair. "When is Harry not tense?"

"Well-"

Waving his hands in the air, Severus quickly retracted the question. "Never mind, I don't want to know." He ignored his former pupils impudent grin and focused back on the conversation at hand. "You know I don't mind. He doesn't have any business outside the castle for the next few days, does he?"

Draco propped his elbows on the small table and clasped his hands under his chin thoughtfully. "Not unless an emergency comes up. The Wizards Weekly has been bugging us about an interview, but Harry keeps putting it off. The committee meets next week to discuss the school reforms-"

"Again? I thought they'd finally stopped arguing with you about it."

"They'll keep challenging it, Sev, right up until we're lying on our deathbeds. You know that. We're still considered little better than the Deatheaters, really, and no one wants to admit that anything 'those little dictators'" the annoyed young man went as far as making the little quotation signs with his fingers, "came up with can be better than the way things were before. If they weren't deathly afraid of Harry, we'd never get anything done at all."

"Bloody fools."

Shrugging, Draco continued while moving another piece. "It's the way things are. Personally, I think we'd be better off just eliminating everyone who opposes us, but Harry refuses. He says that'll make us no better than Voldemorte."

"He's right." Snape met the silver glare that was leveled at him without flinching. The snobbish aristocrat never had liked it when someone disagreed with him. "Draco, you've achieved a measure of peace and prosperity that hasn't been seen since before Voldemorte's first reign. By seizing the lands and moneys of the deceased Deatheaters and using them for the various public service projects, you've done something that none of the former heads even considered. You made something good come from the bad. The people think you care about them, that you're only here to help them. Because of that, for the most part, they tend to ignore that they live in a two-leader dictatorship. Going around killing people you don't like will undermine that."

The chess game sat forgotten between the pair as Draco defended himself and his mate.

"Harry and I are not dictators."

Sev's only answer was an arched brow.

"We're not! We have an entire council that helps us make decisions."

"You're former war council. Who, to the last man and woman, adore both of you."

The old professor had a point, but Draco wasn't about to concede. They'd had the same argument dozens of times and they always ended up the same. They had to agree to disagree. Honestly, if there wasn't so much love and respect between them they'd have probably come to wand points about it long before.

For once their verbal sparring match was cut off before it even had a real chance to begin. The door swung open and slammed into the wall with a resounding 'thunk' and Harry swept in looking like murder.

He stalked right past them and all but threw himself down into one of the chairs in front of the fire. The magical aura that surrounded him was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Which told the others that he was either annoyed or frustrated, but not actually as pissed as he appeared.

"Hello, Harry. I must say, you're looking cheery this evening."

Hard emerald swung up and for a second, Harry glared at Severus, not seeming to even realize who he was. Then his upset vanished as if it had never been and he beamed at the old man. "Sev! When did you get back from Romania?"

The teacher who had once been called the bane of Harry's existence smiled at the young man with genuine affection. "Just this afternoon."

"Outstanding. You were gone too long this time."

Draco just sat back and smiled as he watched Harry stand to welcome Severus back properly with a loose hug. It was nice to see the loving side of Harry again. Oh, he saw it directed towards himself all the time, but the green-eyed man seldom let it show around anyone else. He was always polite, even moderately friendly with those that had been with them the longest, but he never lost the restraint completely except with those he considered family.

And Harry worried more than could be considered good for anyone. Anytime they were out of his sight, he became snappish and brooding.

With both Sev and Remmy away, it had been a stressful few months.

"How is Charlie? Did you see Norbert? While you're babysitting me, you have to tell me all about it." The former Slytherins were stunned, much to Harry's obvious amusement. He gave them a big Cheshire grin before reclining back into his seat. "What? You didn't think I noticed that I'm never left alone if you think I'm upset or likely to become so?"

Draco felt his face flushed as he stood, a little unsteady. He'd hoped to hide it from his mate indefinitely, but then, even knowing the man as he did, he was still constantly underestimating him. He didn't know what to say. It wasn't that he didn't trust Harry, or that he didn't think he could take care of himself.. It was just.... "Harry..."

The smaller man reached over and grabbed his hand, tugging him down into the oversized chair with him. "It's all right, Draco. I understand the need." He snuggled against Draco's chest, mussing his hair further. "And we both know I'd work myself into a rage if I had to sit here by myself and think about it."

They shared a kiss. Before it could actually go any further though, they were interrupted by the sound of their companion clearing his throat.

With a small smile, Harry pushed him back up. "Now go. If you're going to tell them, tell them. Stop pussyfooting around it. They're not the only ones you're torturing by dragging it out like this."

Despite the lack of anger in his tone, Draco knew that the dark haired man was referring to himself and if he could have kicked his own head, he would have. In his need to punish the Gryffindor prisoners, he'd forgotten what the waiting might do to the Gryffindor he actually cared about. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. Now go. Sev and I have a lot of catching up to do."

With a parting kiss to fortify him for the task ahead, he left.

TBC